A/N: Endless thanks to Queen Mab for salvaging this story.
Part 3: Resolve
The staff at the SGC and the Alpha site was quite thin and Jack knew each of them inside and out. It was easy to avoid the government plants that were there more out of traditional suspicion than any real worries that Jack O'Neill might have a plan up his sleeve. After all, he was old news and the least of the government's worries.
Ironically enough, the Stargate Program was of little concern to anyone anymore, as if they had completely forgotten what had started this mess to begin with. But as long as nothing interrupted the procurement of naqaudah, the SCG was pretty much left alone.
Jack couldn't help but notice the similarity to the Goa'uld system of slavery. How was he really any different than Pyrus, Ellori or any of the other dozens of human rulers that had blindly supplied the Goa'uld with naquadah in exchange for safety from retribution?
But for now, Jack was actually glad of the situation. He slowly shuffled personnel between the SGC and the Alpha site, feeling that at the very least, the people still here deserved their own final choice. Smuggling the loved ones of those people who chose to relocate to the Alpha site took a bit more finesse, but within four months, Jack had finally accomplished it with little fuss.
It was time for the next phase of his plan.
He'd had to call in every last marker he had to his name and indebt himself to countless more people, but he eventually did the undoable. He found Colonel Samantha Carter. Playing his last card, he had Siler rig something up and finally convinced the right bigwigs that if Carter couldn't come and fix the gate, there would be no more naquadah. The results had been almost instantaneous. And now he was standing in the parking lot, waiting for a transport to deliver her back where she belonged.
When she first stepped out of the dark sedan into the bright sunlight, he almost didn't recognize her. She had lost weight and her skin looked pallid in the sun. Her eyes automatically fell on Jack, but as she moved towards him, he couldn't help but think he was looking into the eyes of a stranger.
Jack cursed himself for not getting to her sooner.
She stopped in front of him and saluted, not seeming to notice or care that he was wearing civvies and they were standing in the middle of a parking lot. "Colonel Carter reporting for duty, sir."
It was hard to match up this cool professionalism with the woman who just a few months ago had held back tears as she spoke to him on the phone.
"Carter," he acknowledged with a nod, not completely unprepared for her attitude. Talking on the phone was one thing, being together in person another all together. On the phone, her presence had never been like a swift shot the gut like it was today, ruthlessly reminding him of just how much he had missed her.
Sam was already moving towards the check-in, studiously avoiding his gaze, as if somehow aware of his thoughts. "What seems to be the big problem, sir?"
Jack reached out and stopped her with a simple touch to her arm. He wasn't sure if he imagined her start slightly at the contact. "This way," he said with a jerk of his head away from the mountain and towards the parking lot.
She was given no choice but to follow him, but she kept glancing back at the mountain. "Sir, I really don't have time for this. I can't stay long and I don't know how long this might take."
Jack continued dragging her towards his car. "Carter, there is nothing wrong with the gate. Just get in the car."
She pulled her arm out of his grasp, bringing them both to a halt. "What?" she demanded abruptly with wide, suspicious eyes as if trying to gauge if he had lost his mind in the months since they had last spoken.
"Carter….please," he finally said earnestly, willing her to trust him.
Something shifted in her expression at his plea. She nodded silently and climbed into his car.
They sat in tense silence until their destination became clear. Sam glanced around at the scenery and said, "You made it up."
"Yes," Jack said simply, his hands gripping at the wheel.
Sam stared at him in shock. "Why? Don't you know how much trouble you could get into?"
Jack sighed as he pulled into his driveway. "Carter, you know why. And do you really think that kind of trouble matters anymore?"
He led her into the house, closing the door carefully behind them.
"Sir, this is crazy," Sam said, standing awkwardly in his entryway looking as if MPs were going to jump out of his coat closet at any moment. These days, there was always someone watching.
"You're just getting that?" Jack said tiredly, absently rubbing at his temples in a hopeless attempt to relieve the constant tension headache he had been living with for months.
He could feel Sam's eyes on him, her palpable concern slightly breaking through whatever barriers she'd felt the need to erect between them the last few months. He knew why she did it. She didn't want him to see her as weak. But Sam had never been able to completely turn off her heart, even if she'd wanted to. Jack was glad to see that she was still the woman he had known, at least in this one small way.
"What's wrong, sir?" she finally asked from the hallway, probably still not quite brave enough to step into the room.
Jack laughed humorlessly, wondering if she was being deliberately obtuse or if she had really been shielded that much. Well, at least her ignorance, or denial, he could fix. He pushed to his feet and walked straight to his bookcase, pulling out a thick folder of paper he had been slowly gathering over the last year of this war. A tangible document of what had been lost.
While his back was turned, Sam's curiosity had managed to push her down the last few steps into the living room.
Jack dropped the folder on the table in front of Sam and gestured for her to look. "What's wrong?" he said. "Take your pick."
Sam cautiously approached the table as if it held a bomb, and in some ways, Jack mused, it did.
The sheets of paper were slowly spread across the table by Sam's steady hand, each one detailing only two things: names and numbers. Casualty totals and lists of names, both the achingly familiar and the anonymous victims from both sides. The dividends of the last two years.
Jack could see realization dawning on her face and felt a perverse sort of pleasure in the way her façade cracked slightly. She backed away from the table as if burned.
Jack's pleasure quickly melted into concern as Sam's face paled and her fingers began to tremble. "You must have known…suspected," Jack said lowly, watching her fiddle with the cuffs of her sleeves.
"It doesn't matter," she said stonily, blindly turning back to the door. "I have to get back."
"It does matter, and you know it," Jack said quietly, his voice stopping her mid-step. "And I can't just ignore it anymore."
Sam spun back around to face him, studying him intently for a moment. "Sir, what have you done?" she asked with quiet horror.
Jack didn't answer, but just leaned against the arm of the couch, his arms crossed, letting her work it out.
After a long moment, in true Carter fashion, she hit straight on the mark with the barest of clues. "Where is Daniel? Have you heard from him? And Cassie?"
"You already know those answers," Jack said, sitting back on the couch once more now that he was sure she would stay.
He watched Sam wander aimlessly around the room, occasionally pausing to touch various objects. Jack knew her well enough to know that she was thinking hard. Trying to work out what all of this meant.
"You sent them off world," she finally said, not needing any confirmation. She turned back around to look at him. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked.
Jack suppressed the urge to reach out and touch her. "I want you to go, too."
Shock didn't really cover what she seemed to be feeling. He saw a thousand emotions pass over her face in that one moment. Relief, horror, hope, anger, embarrassment, guilt. She paced back and forth down the length of his living room, finally turning to him.
"Leave Earth? Are you serious?"
It was funny, ironic even, that for a moment Jack actually wished he was still her commanding officer. So many years of wondering what it would have been like to not have any restrictions between them, but now he desperately wanted to be able to order her to stop asking questions and just do as she was told. Not that it had ever been that cut and dry between them, but at least it had been comfortable and even a little predictable.
But Jack was no longer her commanding officer. He couldn't order her to do squat, let alone commit what some might see as treason. What he could do, though, was play the card he had never let himself use before. It scared him slightly, that he was desperate enough to try and use her feelings against her, but there was no more room for half measures.
"Please, Sam, just do this for me," Jack said gently.
Sam's breath hitched as if she couldn't quite believe he had asked. She shook her head, though whether in denial or as an attempt to clear her head, Jack didn't know.
"Why should I?" she finally choked out. "What makes me so special that I get to run away from this mess? I'm just one person. I'm not more important than anyone else," she said weakly, clearly affected by his plea, but refusing to budge nonetheless.
"Yes," Jack said rather more intensely than he intended, "you are."
Sam's eyes slid from his face, clearly made uncomfortable by his words. "Fine, so my brain makes me important," she said bitterly, "isn't that even more reason for me to stay?"
"Believe it or not, I wasn't talking about your brain."
Sam made a strange sound halfway between a derisive laugh and snort of disbelief as if she couldn't believe there was anything else 'special' about her. "Even if I wanted to, even if I agreed, what makes you think they won't come after me? I doubt the government would so easily let go of their favorite toy."
Jack hated the way she was talking about herself. She'd always had insecurities about certain parts of her life, but her intelligence had never been one of them. They'd made her hate that part of herself. "You won't have to worry about them," Jack said with certainty, his fists clenching at his sides.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "How can you be so sure?"
Jack looked away from her, not wanting her to read the truth, but she was already there. She could read the choice he was willing to make for the entire planet in his eyes.
"You can't be seriously considering…," she said breathlessly.
"Is it really so hard to believe? This whole damn planet is going to blow itself to hell no matter what I do. All that's left is making it a little harder for them to do, and get the people I care about as far away from this mess as I can."
Sam took a deep breath as if trying to regain control, and Jack didn't blame her. This was a hell of a lot to have thrown at her so fast.
But Sam managed to digest it quickly and hone in on the one thing he would rather she would have overlooked. "You're going to stay behind."
Jack stood abruptly and turned away, not particularly wanting to get into this. Especially with her.
But Sam wasn't backing down. "I know you. For all your bluster about damning the planet to hell, you still have no intention of leaving with us. If you do this, you'll be trapped here, alone, forever. You say this is just about getting the rest of us safely away...but that's not really it, is it?"
"Sam," he said softly, a little disarmed by how accurately she was reading the situation. Her eyes flew to his face and suddenly she looked overwhelmingly vulnerable. Jack moved to kneel by her, reaching one hand out to touch her face. She unconsciously leaned into the contact, even as she regarded him warily. "This is about you, not me. So don't pretend that I don't know what you've been doing. Don't pretend that this isn't destroying you. You can't go on this way."
Sam paled alarmingly at his blunt words, but then she reached up and wrapped her fingers gingerly around his. "The same could be said about you, Jack."
Jack's hand tensed automatically at her words, but he just shook his head, refusing to acknowledge her point. "I just need to know you're safe before I…"
"Before you what?" Sam pressed. "Sacrifice yourself for the greater good?"
"I wasn't planning on dying, Carter," Jack said evasively.
"Believe it or not, I wasn't talking about your life," she said, throwing his own words back at him.
Jack knew what she meant. He very well could get out of this whole mess with his life, but with little else. An empty, lonely shell. In some ways it would be worse. Maybe that was the attraction. Fitting punishment. Because in the end, he could acknowledge that the others deserved a second chance at a real life. He just couldn't find it in him to extend such clemency to himself.
"You're such a goddamned tragic hero. Rescue your friends and then stay behind, saving all the hard choices and guilt for yourself."
There was far too much truth in her words for Jack's comfort, but all he could do was remain where he was, staring up at her helplessly, unable to deny it.
Sam fell silent and pushed up from the chair, walking away from Jack and the bleakness of his expression. Her eyes eventually fell on the collection of papers on Jack's table. The list of the dead and fallen among the SGC personnel rested on top. She ran her fingers over it, smearing the red ink like blood.
She thought of his plan, the decisions he was willing to make and was enveloped by an overwhelming feeling of inescapability.
"There's really no other choice, is there?" she finally observed softly.
Jack came up behind her, just short of actually touching her. "No. I don't think there is."
Then she turned and met his eyes and for the merest moment he thought he saw a glimmer of the old Sam Carter. "I won't let you do this alone."
Jack opened his mouth to protest, but her hand moved up to block the words.
"Let me tell you what's going to happen, Jack O'Neill. We do anything we can to make this stop, using that plan you've got tucked up your sleeve."
"And then?" Jack asked tentatively against her fingers, feeling a strange mix of hope and dread at the same time.
Sam stared at him for long moments, dropping her hand to his chest. "Then we go."
Jack closed his eyes, warring with the instinct to make her safe at any cost and his relief that he might not have to do this alone. Then he realized that this was what he'd hoped she'd say all along.
He wondered what kind of a person that made him.
He turned away, slowly pacing the room, allowing his fingers to reach into his pocket and wrap around the soft white crystal that he'd been carrying around for weeks. It represented his last chance, one last ditch effort to make things better. His power to affect change, should he choose to use it.
Jack slowly pulled the crystal out, resting it on his open palm, and offered it to Sam. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before her cool fingers wrapped around his, hovering protectively over their lifeline.
They would save the world one more time.
Then they would see about saving each other.